Page 80 of Bad Habit
That’s why I’m going over to her apartment at one in the morning, just to see her smile.
I knock on her door even though she said it’s unlocked. I’ve never actually been to her apartment before. Not inside at least. She opens the door in another one of my West Haven t-shirts and she looks tired. A small gasp comes out of her mouth when she takes in how bad of shape I’m in. Eli did his best fixing me up, but my eye is still swollen and I have cuts covering my face. Thankfully she can’t see all the bruises covering the rest of my body.
I hold up the bag of food for her but she ignores it. She steps aside and lets me step in. “Midnight cereal seems like a pretty good decision right now. Good call.” I try to break away at the sadness in her eyes.
“How hurt are you?” She doesn’t ask if I lost or won. She checks the slight limp from the tender beaten muscle in my thigh. Her eyes dart to the floor before she goes to lock the door. She leads me to her kitchen and grabs two bowls and spoons.
“I’m okay. Bruises heal.” I reassure her as I pour her a bowl of cereal. “How did the auction end up? Raise lots of money?” I pour the milk over the dry cereal before handing the bowl over to her. She sits on top of her counter. That’s something I realize she likes to do and I like that it puts her more eye level with me. I don’t have to work so hard to figure out what color they are this way.
“Do you not want me at your fights anymore?” Her voice is small and unsure.
I stop right before the cereal starts to pour and I turn to face her fully. “I always want you there.”
“I know that being with me at the gala was… a lot.” She puts her bowl down too as she seems to search for more words. “We haven’t talked about it all yet. Do you want to?” She offers cautiously. I don’t think she wants to openly let me in on something that she feels so unsteady about herself.
“Why didn’t you trust me with it?” That’s the only part that has been tearing at my heart for days. She stayed by my side the majority of the night. She never showed even a hint of being ashamed of me. Not that that was something that I was worried about but I’ve gone over the whole night for any signs of the reason behind her not telling us other than the fact that we didn’t ask. Mia is so free with so much of herself with all of us. But watching her walk around that room, she looked caged.
“It’s not that.” I step closer to her and she pulls me in even more with her legs. She takes a steady breath before looking up at me. “I hate that I come from all of that. But I need it. I need it to make a difference. And it’s hard to do that when everyone looks at you like you don’t know what it means to have to fight for something.” She rushes all the words out like she has been practicing them or maybe just holding her breath until she could finally release them.
She wraps her arms around my shoulders, embracing me in a hug that only Mia could make feel healing. “I really am sorry. But I’ll answer any questions you have.” I breathe in her cherry body wash and even though I have so many questions, I don’t have the energy to ask any of them at this moment.
“Can we actually maybe just go lay on the couch for a little bit? It’s hard to stay standing right now.” I can feel her nod her head against my shoulder so I pick her up, even though it takes every ounce of my strengthto not recoil in pain, and carry her with me as I try to find her couch. I lay her down first. My goal was to just let her curl up next to me but my body kind of just gives out and my head ends up on her chest, her body cradling mine. It’s oddly comforting.
“Why are you letting yourself get hurt so much?” She whispers as her hand runs through my hair.
“I don’t know how to explain it.” Which isn’t a total lie. But I don’t have the answers she wants right now. Because it’s changed. I used to fight because it was my career path. Then I got injured and I had to spend so much time rehabilitating my leg. I trained harder than ever before and there was no shot of getting my opportunity to go pro back. I fought for years to get that opportunity.
Even though I can still fight and be impressively good, it doesn’t mean I have a direct path like Rory did. And I don’t have the mentality to make it my everything any more. Tonight at The Poolhouse I felt empty and numb. For the first time ever, fighting didn’t give me the energy surge through my body that I’m easily addicted to. It didn’t give me purpose. And I need that. I need to be able to show her that I have purpose.
MIA
“I’m actually so pissed that Oliver got to be the first one to punch Adam.” That is all my best friend has to say about everything I’m catching her up on from the gala. I made her go on a taco date with me the minute she was back in town.
“It was a beautiful sight seeing him on his knees and bleeding.” I grin over at her. I filled her in on everything that happened. Including who my parents are and why I had so many connections to call for the sponsorship dinner. She didn’t bat an eye. She is too caught up in the drama between Oliver and Adam. “You don’t seem upset over me lying to you.” I can’t help but point it out. I overthink everything as it is, but for her to not even acknowledge it is causing the tacos to turn sour in the pit of my stomach.
“Did you lie to me?” She asks as she takes a bite of her taco. I feel like she is playing with me.
“I didn’t tell you who my parents were or that I have enough money in my bank account right now to buy out this restaurant and not bat an eye.” I say cautiously.
I watch her finish chewing and her face twists in disgust. “Honestly, from what you told me, I don’t give a fuck who your parents are. They don’t deserve you. And if you buy this place, you have to keep all our favorite workers. They spoil us and I’m a brat.” The laugh that leaves my body shakes the table.
I watch her lean closer to the table and set her gray eyes on my face. “You’re not defined by what you come from.” There’s a solemness to her words that makes a cold chill run over my skin. “If I needed to know, you would have told me. I know that.” Her lips tilt in a kind smile. “You radiate warmth in every room you walk in. I genuinely believe Chloe sent me you. And that’s enough for me.” Every time she brings up her old foster sister I get emotional. It used to feel like a weight when she would compare our likeness.
Now it feels like an honor. We wouldn’t have AJ today without Chloe. And if she did somehow make the universe send me to AJ then I feel like she also sent AJ to me. There’s a solidarity in sitting with someone whose soul screams the same fighting need to break a mold. And I’ve always felt that with AJ.
She doesn’t need me to be more than exactly what I am in the moment. No matter what that is. Because some days I’m chaotic and ready to take on the world. Some days I am overwhelmed and ready to give up. Every day, she pushes me and every day she is who I need her to be.
I feel a rogue tear fall over my bottom lashes and I don’t even try to stop it. Acceptance is a double edged sword when you’re not accustomed to it. And to have someone like her see me for who I am at my core, and that be all that is important, is a profusely hard concept to accept.
“I have more to tell you.” I take a deep breath as I get ready to dive into the next part that I need to tell her.
“There’s my favorite girls.” Rory’s voice interrupts the moment before I can continue. And he’s not alone. Standing next to him is a guy with dark hair, wearing a pretty smile and perfect teeth. I have definitely seen him somewhere before. Rory wraps his arm around AJ’s shoulders and kisses her temple. “Hey, Jude.” The softest smile lights up her face as he pulls out the chair next to her to sit.
“Who’s your friend?” I ask him as I’m looking at the other guy who is now sitting across from me.
“Scott Hawyard.” He holds his hand out to me and I know exactly why he looks familiar now.
“Your mom is Sheila.” I know I surprise him because his head tilts and he holds on to my hand longer than necessary.
